The Friend He Found Again
by thequeenofthedead
Summary: This fic is a drabble detailing the circumstances of Remus and Sirius reuniting when Dumbledore tells Sirius to "lie low at Lupin's". Answer to a song lyric challenge at 30minutefics on livejournal.com.
1. Arriving to Open Arms

"Wishing I could fly away  
Don't know where I'm going  
Wishing I could hide  
Oh God this is some shape I'm in"

Lie low at Lupin's for a while. Lie low at Lupin's for a while. Lie low at Lupin's for a while.

Sirius knocked on Remus's door. He bounced slightly on the balls of his feet as he waited. Lie low at Lupin's for a while, Dumbledore had said. He obviously had no idea how hard it would be. They may have reunited for a time, but since then, well, they hadn't had the time to "catch up".

"How are we going to manage, Remus, now that we have to face all that has happened?" Sirius thought, more afraid than he would admit to himself. Sooner then he would have liked, the doorknob turned, and he found himself staring into the ragged and tired face of his friend. He had forgotten that Remus had changed for the last time this month just the night before.

"Remus," Sirius mumbled, somehow unable to meet the man's eyes.

"Goodness, Sirius, what are you doing here at this hour? Are you all right? Is everything okay?" Remus ran a hand through his graying hair. Sirius, at his home. He wasn't ready for anything his friend was about to tell him.

"Dumbledore told me to stay here with you for a while. You-know-who is back, Remus. Harry saw him return."

"Oh... oh, well... of course you can stay here Sirius... He's back? Are you sure?"

"Positive, but there are only a few of us that believe Harry's story."

"The ministry?" Sirius shook his head in disgust. "Of course not," Remus muttered, "Well, what did Dumbledore say to do?"

"He told us to round up the old members and such. Whoever's still around."

"The Order?" Remus asked. Sirius nodded. Remus ran his hand through his hair again, and leaned gently against the door frame.

"Well, wait, why are we still standing about? Come in, Sirius. They stepped into the home, and Sirius took noticed of the sparse, worn furniture. He shifted his gaze to Remus. The man looked weary beyond belief. Sirius pointed to the couch in a corner. "You should sit, Moony. You look like you are about to fall down dead."

"It has been a difficult couple of days." Remus said in reply. They both sat, and silence reigned for a few moments.  
"Well, we can't get anything done tonight. What shall we do?" Remus asked, staring into the eyes of his friend.

"Remus, I know what you're getting at and I can't. I can't talk about it. Not yet."

"We need to discuss it eventually, Siri-"

"I know. Just, not tonight, please? I'm too busy worrying about Harry."

"There's cause to worry?"

"I just... I... there may be. I'm not sure of anything anymore."

Sirius was taken aback to find one single, hot tear trailing down his face. "This is absurd," he thought, "I don't cry. Snap out of it you great prat." His thoughts had no effect, however. More tears started making there way to his chin, streaking muddy paths on his skin. He was almost as taken aback by finding Remus's arms around him as he was to crying. But it didn't feel strange somehow, not as strange as it would have had it been James. Instead of pulling back, as his pride would normally force him to do, it felt right to wrap his arms around Remus and let himself fall into the cushions of the couch, crying himself to sleep in the arms of the friend he couldn't believe he had found again.

"Wishing I could fly away  
Don't know where I'm going  
Wishing I could hide  
Oh God this is some shape I'm in"  
-Jackson Browne, "Sleep's Dark and Silent Gate"


	2. Waking to Discussion and a Letter

Every muscle in his body seemed to ache with clenched soreness when Sirius woke the next morning. His awkward position wasn't being helped any by the wiry man he was entwined with. Sirius delicately untangled himself from Remus's arms. The man didn't wake, only groaned slightly and shifted his position. With vaguely doglike movements, Sirius stretched out his limbs, wincing slightly as the aches sharpened for a moment, then sighing in relief as they faded.

He moved into the kitchen, eggs in the sparse pantry. He quickly set to work making them to the best of his ability. His unfamiliarity with even that simple magic took him slightly by surprise. All the years in Azkaban and then in hiding had certainly left their mark. As the eggs began to appear ready, Sirius strode gently into the living room and settled himself on the couch next to his friend's sleeping form. Gripping Remus's shoulder, he shook him slightly, "Remus, mate, wake up."

The man simply groaned and swatted half-heartedly at Sirius's hand.

"C'mon, you. I made breakfast."

At this announcement, one of Remus's eyes snapped open, "You did _what_?"

"I made breakfast," Sirius repeated, a bit of a triumphant smile coming over his face.

"I'm sorry, mate, but you couldn't cook _before _you went to Azkaban. You don't have a chance now," At his words, the smell of smoke started floating in from the kitchen.

"Damn!" Sirius exclaimed, and leaped off of the couch. He sprinted into the kitchen, only to find his eggs blackened and ruined.

"Sorry about your eggs, Sirius," Remus said, stifling a giggle, the light in his eyes dancing with laughter. Sirius shoved him lightly.

"Fine, make fun of the man who has been eating scraps for fourteen years. That's real nice," Sirius started to chuckle too, but when he looked over at Remus he saw that his laughter had ceased and his eyes had grown grave.

"No, Remus," Sirius said.

Remus sighed, turning toward the mess of eggs, which he cleaned up with a sweep of his wand, "Tell me what happened to Harry."

Sirius sat down at the tiny kitchen table, resting his elbows on the worn wood and placing his chin in his hands. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off before he could even start by the arrival of an owl through Remus's kitchen window.


End file.
